


The Pride of Life

by Cryptid_Bloodhound (Wei_Zhan)



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur is a sassy bird, Bloodhound has a kid in this, Bloodhound has no concept of social norms, RIP that poor security guard he's gonna have a stroke, they're kept purposefully vague so you can insert your hc's on them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 12:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21410098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wei_Zhan/pseuds/Cryptid_Bloodhound
Summary: They may often find peace in the bloodied valleys of battle but they’ve learned that the hunt is not the only place to find tranquility.Or: Bloodhound has a kid and keeps forgetting that people don't usually show up to said kid's school in full battle gear. It's just pure fluff, my dudes.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	The Pride of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, my first fic for the fandom! It's just a quick lil oneshot so don't expect anything groundbreaking lmfao This little gem was formed from some silly ideas I had on tumblr that snowballed with the input of multiple awesome people. If you want to read the full thing, you can find it [here](https://cryptid-bloodhound.tumblr.com/post/188938147972/f-to-fuck-a-pumpkin-cryptid-bloodhound). I purposefully kept the child vague so yall can imagine them how you wish - the name, look, gender identity, parent, if they're biological or adopted, etc. 
> 
> I need to give a special thank you to Ajays-Lullaby (formerly judgejuryexecutioner) for the term 'ada'. I wasn't sure what their kid would call them but they mentioned that and I was like _yes, perfect_. I'll probably write more of this AU bcus I'm a sucker for adorable domestic AUs (or AUs in general).
> 
> Got a request? I'm open! You can catch me on my [tumblr](https://cryptid-bloodhound.tumblr.com/) or contact me here (:

Life in the Legends’ compound was always interesting just after the conclusion of a game. The contenders tended to their wounds, cleaned the blood from their suits and weapons, and chatted quietly amongst one another. Exhaustion weighed heavy on their shoulders as they waited for the ‘all clear’ from the higher-ups. Some liked to find the ever-present paparazzi and bask in the fleeting limelight before limping to their quarters. Others couldn’t wait to make a break for the city and revel in their victory - or drink to their sorrows. 

In those tenuous moments between work and freedom laid a razor-thin tension. It lined their bodies, drawing them stiff as they dabbed their wounds. Friendly grins were always just the tightest bit strained at the very corners as they chatted with their friends. Jokes and laughs were traded as the phantom pains of bullets and blades shifted like a nightmare in the backs of their minds. No matter how close they are, it’s hard to look in the eyes of the person who put a gun to their head and pulled the trigger without thinking twice. 

But the wondrous thing about Legends is that those moments of bitter pain and loss were so very fleeting. They were a rare sort, able to place those memories of death and torment to the wayside. To not take it personally. At the beginning of the day, they’re competitors and at the end they’re family. It was the sort of lifestyle that few could handle. Even rarer was the ability to be a Legend _ and _ have a life outside of the games. Between the fame and fear garnered for their feats that seemed to separate them from the rest of society and the strain of competing at all, it was nearly impossible. The veterans of the game, Legends who had truly been through the wringer, have learned to cope with those brief, insidious emotions and the struggle with the duality of their lives with stunning expertise. It would take far more than a bad game to truly bring them down.

Sitting by their self was a Legend who seemed just outside of the norm. As they meticulously wiped blood from their hunting knife and hatchet, they felt a sense of serenity only ever present after a game. The threat of death and pain at the hands of their friends never really bothered them. If they were to fall by another’s hands then that is simply the way it was meant to be. If they had to fell a friend in combat, then so be it. Bloodhound found peace in the carnage that combat brought with it. If one listened close enough, they could even hear the faint sound of a soft battle hymn hummed under their breath. Perched just to their left was their faithful companion, Arthur. The large raven busied himself with cleaning the game’s grime from his feathers and preening.

They took this brief reprieve as an opportunity to send a silent prayer up to the Gods. All they could hope for was that the day’s kills pleased the Allfather. Then, when their worship came to a close and their blades no longer ran a deep crimson, they rose from their seat. A few heads turned at the unexpected motion before that lull in conversation picked back up. It was not uncommon for the enigmatic hunter to disappear post-battle for hours or even days at a time. Still, as they neared the exit they gave a parting farewell. They could grant their brethren that much.

“Fara vel, I will return shortly.”

After a chorus of well wishes and waves, they departed the facility. Once upon a time, they would have made their way to where the wilderness called their name. Since they had a child, however, they found their priorities shifted. Instead of heading for the forest, they made their way deeper into the city to their kid’s school. Never would they have guessed something could rival their sense of wanderlust let alone beat it. But these moments with their young one proved them happily wrong.

As they approached the school, the astonished looks and whispers of other parents didn’t go unnoticed. It was something they’ve learned to live with. At first, before they truly grasped the scope of their fame thanks to the games, they were understandably shocked to see people wearing eerie replicas of their mask and nervous fans approach them for autographs. It was uncomfortable at first but as the years rolled on and victories mounted, they’ve adapted just as they always do. 

So, the shocked stares and high whispers didn’t faze them. Though, perhaps it _ should _ have. If they had paid attention to what was being said and just where it was that people were looking, they would have picked up on the problem. Or, if they had made a mention to the other Legends where they were going, someone could have spoken up to stop them. But no, that was not how it was meant to be. 

The problem for Bloodhound is simple. Their way of life - constant hunting and battle - is so utterly ingrained in them that traversing a city armed and armored was normal in their eyes. Just as one puts on a coat to leave the house, they don a mask and combat gear. It’s as natural as breathing to them. Approaching a grade school fresh from a blood bath just wasn’t something that rang alarms in their head. That’s why when they approached the doors and were stopped by a visibly uneasy security guard they just tilted their head in confusion.

“Uh, I’m- I’m gonna have to ask you to uh, to leave your weapons in your vehicle. They aren’t permitted on school grounds.”

It all suddenly made sense to the hunter. The horrified whispers, the beads of sweat dotting the guard and rolling down his face… They could hardly fault the others for being wary. After all, it is just the nature of prey to grow anxious in the presence of a predator - especially when that predator is baring its teeth and claws. This was not their prey, however, and so they gave a slight apologetic bow of the head.

“Ahh, my apologies. I was veiðr and forgot. One moment.”

Disarming was quick and easy since they carried scarce more than their varying blades when outside of the arena or away from a hunt. Still, there was a degree of amusement to be found in seeing the wide-eyed looks of the few parents approaching the school as they removed one large blade after another from their sheaths. They knew it wasn’t simply the weapons but the one who wielded them that upset the populace. At this point, Bloodhound would have thought they’d be used to it. After all, they could openly admit that this was far from the first time they forgot to leave their weapons behind. 

As they neared the doors once more, a raven’s call caught their attention. Reflexively they lifted their arm for Arthur to perch upon it. Once more the guard blocked their way. Bloodhound frowned ever so slightly at the motion. They had relinquished their weaponry, was that not enough? This time, the man rubbed the back of his neck and looked for the world as if he wished he was anywhere but here.

“Your bird-’

_ “Artur comes with me.” _

There was a firm note of finality in their voice. It was clear they would entertain no negotiations on this front. Arthur was their oldest and truest friend. Where they went, the raven went. That authoritative tone sent a jolt through the guard. Eyes widened and stance stiffened, he seemed at a loss for a moment. Then, he gave an unsteady grin and a nod that was just a bit _ too _ enthusiastic to be natural.

“Of course! That’s _ totally _ what I was gonna say. Nice ta have you back!”

The tightness behind his clenched grin and the minute tremor in his hands was all the evidence needed to know that was decidedly _ not _ what he was going to say. However, he seemed to have weighed his options and found that complying was the best way to go. Not wanting to cause the poor guard any more undue stress, Bloth gave another polite nod and made their way inside. As they passed the threshold, they could just make out the faint crackle of the guard’s radio as he spoke into it.

_ “What the fuck am I supposed to do? …...No, YOU tell them their bird isn’t allowed inside! ..….I am _ ** _not_ ** _ telling _ ** _Bloodhound_ ** _ that. I do not get paid enough for that! …...I like my life more than this job, dickhead. …...Hnng, fiiine but that’s it!” _

They shook their head slightly in amusement. A faint, breathy laugh left their lips at the - in their opinion - entirely unnecessary commotion. This was rather routine for them by now. They took an empty spot in the open corridor and casually folded their arms as they waited for the children to be released. After losing his perch on Bloth’s arm, Arthur made the short journey to sit on their shoulder. Once more they ignored the blatant stares of the others around them. 

It wasn’t but a moment after settling in their spot, stance wide and exuding that quiet pride they’re known for, that the guard made his return. This time, he tried to be as unassuming as possible as he stood back and to the right of the Legend. The forced casual display didn’t fool the hunter but they made no motion to acknowledge the man. He was simply doing his job and keeping an eye on the obvious threat. Bloodhound could certainly respect that. But, to their surprise, the guard coughed a little awkwardly and tapped their shoulder. They half-turned to give the still perturbed guard their attention. 

“Uh, you...you got a little..somethin’ right there.”

He made a faint little gesture toward Bloth’s shoulder and, after shifting a bit, Bloodhound could see the ruddy stain he spoke of. It was initially hidden from their gaze due to the shoulder guard blocking it from their perspective. They hummed as they ran a finger over it and scraped the flaking substance off.

“I thought I had gotten all of the bloth off. You have my gratitude.“

At the confirmation of the substance, the guard looked just a tad paler and nodded a bit too quickly.

“Yep! No problem, any time!”

His voice was pitched an octave higher, belaying just how daunting this entire scenario is for him. After that, there was a lapse in conversation. It lulled into an uncomfortable sort of quiet - at least on the guard’s end. Bloodhound just went back to their casual stance, seeming entirely at ease despite the awkward tension filling the air. Arthur busied himself with staring almost menacingly at the guard from his perch.

It wasn’t much longer until the pitter-patter of hurried little feet caught their attention. Moments later, a bustle of kids rounded the corner and elated cries filled the air as they happily made their way to their loved ones. All it took was a cursory sweep to spot their own little one. With a head of wild curls and bright eyes, they came running to Bloth with wide open arms and a large, gap-toothed grin. 

“Ada!”

A consuming, aching warmth spread from their heart throughout their body at the unabashed affection in their child’s voice. This was a brand of love they never fathomed they would have but they thank the Gods each day for it. Without hesitation, they dropped down low and opened their arms invitingly. Just before their child jumped into their waiting grasp, Arthur flew up and circled around the pair. It was an easy affair to lift the young one up and settle them on a hip as they hugged their parent. After planting a kiss on the cheek of Bloodhound’s mask, the smiling kid leaned back to look into the goggles.

“Hi! Did you win your game? Did you?”

The child had an accent much like Bloth’s but not quite to the same degree. It was there, in the curl of the syllables and pitch of the words. There was no denying where they picked up the rather unique manner of speech from. It didn’t matter how many games Bloodhound was in, their child always eagerly waited to hear about it. They gave another soft chuckle and a little nod.

“Indeed. The Allfather graced my and my brethren’s spirits.”

That earned them an excited clap and wiggle. They had to tighten their grip ever so slightly to keep their child from squirming right out of their grasp. A call from Arthur caught both of their attentions. The circling raven was getting impatient and needy. He was quite the little attention hog. Shifting their grip, Bloth held out their arm once more for the bird to land. Once he did, their kid immediately cooed and started petting the bird. If they didn’t know any better, they’d say Arthur was nuzzling into the affectionate strokes.

“Hello, Artur! Did you help ada in the games?”

As if he understood them, the bird squawked and ruffled up his feathers proudly. After taking just another selfish moment to watch their two loves, Bloodhound spoke up.

“Do you wish to visit the others?”

It was a silly question as their child _ adored _ the other Legends - and the Legends adored them right back. After more excited wiggling and affirmations, Bloth lowered the kid back to the ground and took their backpack from them. It was almost comically large on the young one and hilariously out of place against the pristine white and gold armor of the hunter. Still, they slung it over their shoulder opposite to their quiver and gently gripped their kid’s hand. Then, they made their way out of the school, completely unflustered by the gawking people around them. The guard from before still looked rather anxious but the smile on his face was much warmer and more genuine than before. They gave a polite nod as they left. On the way to the vehicle, their child rattled off one story after another with a little skip in their step. Contentment filled their chest in this domestic moment. They may often find peace in the bloodied valleys of battle but they’ve learned that the hunt is not the only place to find tranquility. Once more, they sent a silent prayer to the Gods, thanking them for their blessed fortune.

**Author's Note:**

> Pour one out for Unnamed Security Guard. He's gonna have an aneurysm one of these days, poor guy. Bloth's kid is roughly 7 yrs old in this (again, u can hc smth different).


End file.
